Beyond Beautiful
by caveat lector
Summary: In the morning the snow would have been cruelly ruined and would no longer be beautiful and white, but watery and almost black; snow losing its virginity. B-oneshot, M for some language and violence.


**A/N:** Currently, I'm extremely jealous of my best friend/personal Near, since it's snowing where she lives and I haven't seen a single flake of white in this dumb-ass city I'm stuck in. Therefore, I wrote this oneshot as a tribute to two of my favourite things in the world; snow and Beyond Birthday. Please review, it makes me smile big time. Enjoy :). Oh and I might need to put a **disclaimer** in here: I do not own B, I do not own L, I do not own Wammy's House either. Please refrain from suing me.

**~Beyond Beautiful~**

The snow was falling, covering the landscape of metallic towers and skyscrapers that were to make it as a city. Everywhere, time seemed to stand still as the frozen water drifted slowly from the dark clouds that roamed over the people of the metal-city, and there was no place where the first snow wasn't being enjoyed and adored; everybody knew the value of the peace that the snow brought. And even the greatest masterminds -for once- also had stopped their process of thought to glare at this strange substance that seemingly could stop everything. A man stood in a dark alley, tilting his head curiously at this cold white something, and he now understood why so many writers and painters had chosen snow as their preferred inspiration, because the magic of pure white falling from the sky in big, soft flakes was something special. In the morning, the city would no longer be covered in this soft blanket of silence and purity, no, in the morning the snow would have been cruelly ruined and would no longer be beautiful and white, but watery and almost black; snow losing its virginity. How very symbolic, the man thought, tilting his head even further as he felt his eyes widen slightly at the thought of snow probably being the only pure thing on the planet on which humans in countless years have continued to destroy each other as well as their surroundings.

So much destruction.

But snow could take it all away, just in a few seconds, and when the people all over the concrete-jungle saw it, he could almost feel hearts everywhere light on fire, he could almost feel the smiles on the faces of the children who thought about Christmas coming up soon and he could almost feel himself vomiting, because that was too disgusting to be true.

This perfect picture of everything being good in the pure snow was one of the most childish and overly romantic things to ever enter the genius called his mind.

Had he been anyone else, he would have smiled happily, perhaps he would be struck with melancholy, but Beyond had no time for such things. There was no time to refresh old memories of winters, long forgotten by unimportant people from some insignificant orphanage that was allowed to fuck with his head for a certain period of time in his life. Yet for some reason, his brilliant mind travelled back to the dark rooms of Wammy's House, in which he had been raised to be what he was supposed to become; a Backup and nothing more. Which was -in fact- why he had left in the first place.

But his thoughts went even further back, to a time before master detectives and obsessions causing people to believe they could be more than what they were meant to be. A time where something as simple as a smile could cause the warm feeling inside his cold heart that only torturing the incompetent mind of a fellow human being could bring him now.

The snow got stuck in his hair, contradicting the black mess with its white perfection, where it melted. More white perfection held desperately on to his clothes, hands and face, not to mention his bare feet, and ever so discretely, it soaked him. However, Beyond's mind was too far away to notice something like that, and instead, he shivered from the memories of a time before... well, before time. A time before his life had a purpose, before the pieces of the puzzle started to fit, back when he was confused by the sight of names and dates above people's heads. Before he knew what death was. But he sure as Hell knew now. Death in its most beautiful form. That was what he saw. What he _was_. Everything he stood for, the one thing only _he_ understood, the only thing that the _original_ could never take from him. Unless, of course, the _original_ decided to poke his eyes out with a bony finger. But that was more in his own department. And oh, how wonderful it would be to poke the detective's observant eyes out, making sure that the last thing he ever saw was his Backup having surpassed him.

Backup.

B.

Beyond Birthday.

Beyond Birthday, the criminal mastermind, who surpassed the greatest detective of the century.

Yes, that sounded fantastic. Something about it made him want to throw his head back and laugh maniacally, but as he returned to reality, the sight of the calming snow caused him to sneer slightly, because his plan did not involve him and the detective to ever meet. The satisfaction of surpassing him was supposed to be enough for him. But for the first time, he wanted to beat the conciousness out of the man who had turned his life upside down ever since they first met. He wanted to stab those dark eyes out with his own fingers, he wanted to slowly run a knife up that slender body and feel the breath of someone doomed increase drastically in speed. He wanted it so much that he caught himself panting just a little at the thought. To torture the original until he begged for his death. And perhaps do it outside, in the snow, and watch him turn blue from the cold. Letting him bleed out on a death bed of white, perfect silence.

Snow losing its virginity indeed.

-

Somewhere, bells were ringing. A church was near. A place for the foolish to seek out safety, trying to find some sanctuary. It was a place where the idiots that surrounded him fled to whenever they wanted to celebrate something, like the meaningless occasion of a new fool to join them in their moronic dreams and hopes of something worth while, or the ironic vows that two of them made, only to break them later in their short lives. Or death. Putting another human into the depths of the ground beneath them. How... disrespectful, really, to walk on the dead like that.

They walked on the people beneath them, inferiority must be nagging at the corpses' mentalities.

Walked on A.

In less than a year, they would be walking on B as well.

Perhaps it would snow on his grave, perhaps his tombstone would only say _B_. Perhaps it didn't matter, because L would see it some day and regret ever being so wonderfully perfect, he would regret having made Beyond his Backup, thus causing this extreme obsession, the hatred and idolizing mixing into some strange game of insanity.

It'd become a race.

If L caught B, L would win.

If Beyond managed to carry out his plan, L would lose.

-

The bells had stopped their ringing.

**~end of Beyond Beautiful~**

**A/N 2: **Okay, I know this was a little (or very) weird, but the idea wouldn't leave me. If there's an idea at all, that is. Please review, thank you for reading and have a nice day :) .


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